


Like Real People Do

by mxartbotboy



Category: The Mandalorian (LadyIrina AU), The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Corin is an idiot, Hurt/Comfort, Keldabe Kiss, Love Confession, M/M, Mandorin June Soulmate Contest, Mutual Pining, Soulmate AU, anti soulmate au, like he always is, minor injury, more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25323010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxartbotboy/pseuds/mxartbotboy
Summary: “I’m… fine, I just need,” Corin heaved in a breath and looked over his shoulder at the passenger seat, “Need to sit down…” The thought of sitting was there, but as he moved, the whole cockpit spun. He saw Din’s hands in his peripheral, the flashing lights of the upper console, felt his head lying on the metal floor. When had that happened?“Corin? Corin!”Corin tried to open his mouth to tell Din he was okay, but the thought never made it out as everything went black.
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Din Djarin/Corin Valentis
Comments: 13
Kudos: 200





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Family and Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758992) by [LadyIrina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyIrina/pseuds/LadyIrina). 



He was drifting, in and out of crazed dreams filled with colour and fear and soft touches to his forehead. Corin remembered that he might have woken up here and there, but he couldn’t have said exactly when or what happened when he did. Mostly, it was the feeling of a blanket tucked around him and the gentle hum of the ship that reminded him of where he was.

At some point, he heard Din’s voice, although it was unclear if the words were in Basic or Mando’a. Was he talking to himself or was Corin lucid enough to say something? His tongue always felt too heavy to do much. One time, though, he did hear one word, rolling out in that warm, modulated timbre: “Sleep.”

And eventually, Corin did. 

~~

**Four Days Ago**

With a grunt, Din shoved the Mirialan into the carbon freezer, cutting off the string of curses spilling out of his mouth. A flood of carbon vapour poured out, spilling across the floor of the RazorCrest and circling around Corin’s ankles.

“Good riddance,” Din muttered, crossing his arms as he waiting for the freezing cycle to finish. Corin couldn’t help but silently agree; this job had been a particularly gruelling one involving hunting down a gang member wanted by the local authority of the planet they had landed on. He’d been a slippery target to begin with, and once they had him in the next system over, they didn’t anticipate a group of his goons to ambush them, blowing up half of their skiff down the street. Corin’s arm twinged in pain at the memory. He had been thrown hard, and a long gash ran up the side of his forearm. The shirt he was wearing was definitely ruined, the entire sleeve torn and soaked in blood. He sighed, turning to go find the med kit.

Of course, the Mirialan had taken his opportunity to run and Corin had to chase him halfway across town before cornering him in an alley. The Mirialan had pulled his vibroblade, intent on fighting his way out. And with his injury and the long chase, he might just have done so had they not been interrupted.

“How far did you have to chase him?” Din asked from across the cargo bay.

“Far enough. Ran into a couple and he tried to take one of them hostage.” Corin could still see the shocked looked on the young woman’s face as she was pulled against the Mirialan with the blade at her throat. But the extra body had given Corin an opening to trip the Mirialan as he tried to circle around and he was knocked out faster than a ship into lightspeed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” the young woman’s beau had shaken Corin’s hand, grip tight and eyes grateful, “I don’t know what I would have done if I lost her. We just found each other.” They turned, pressing their foreheads together in an achingly familiar movement and Corin had quickly busied himself with handcuffing the Mirialan.

“Must have been life partners.”

Corin looked up in surprise at Din’s comment. Usually he didn’t speculate about such things when Corin was recounting his end of the job, least of all life partners. Corin didn’t think that Din had even mentioned the concept before.

Something twisted low and dark in the pit of his stomach and Corin returned his attention to the med kit. There was a loud bang as the carbon frozen Mirialan was latched onto the wall. Corin stared down at his arm, and then looked over his shoulder. Din was pulling the straps tight, unaware of Corin’s hesitation.

“I’ll,” Corin cleared his throat, “I’ll just clean up in the ‘fresher then.”

“Hey.” Din’s voice was softer, and he gestured at Corin, “Do you need any help with that?”

Instinctively, Corin pulled his arm in towards his stomach, “No, I’m fine.” Not waiting for the Mandalorian’s answer, he quickly made himself scarce, jamming his finger into the button to close the ‘fresher door. He leaned against it, his head falling gently back on the durasteel. The gash twinged again, and he looked down with a wince. It was deep and dirty but the med kit would have to do.

~~

Eyes drifting open, Corin’s gaze focussed on the panelling of the ship above him, bolts and durasteel seams fading into focus. He blinked and then shifted. Something soft had been laid beneath him, but the hard floor of the ship still sent an ache through his shoulders and neck.

Turning his head, Corin only saw the empty cargo bay of the ship and he frowned. Where was Din? He tried to sit up and his body screamed in protest, the ache in his spine accompanied by a cold wash running down the back of his neck. Laying back down, Corin lifted his hands to his face, trying to blink away the lightheaded feeling that was blanketing his mind. His mouth was dry and he was much too hot.

With a shove, Corin pushed the blanket tucked around him off and then froze. Slowly, he lifted his left arm, staring. He was wearing a different shirt now, and the sleeve had been rolled up. But what Corin was staring at were the bandages. Clean, white, and recently changed.

A lump formed in his throat and a bubble of panic bloomed in his stomach. How long had he been out?

~~

**Three Days Ago**

“Anything?” Din’s voice was muffled beneath the control panel, his legs sticking out awkwardly around Corin’s feet. For the sixth time, Corin tried to run the power cycle to jump to lightspeed, but again, just a red light flashing and a shudder through the ship. Corin groaned, leaning back in the pilot’s seat. Not even a day out from their destination and the engine was dead.

“That’s a no, then.”

Corin stood to let Din crawl out from beneath the control panel and held out a hand to help Din to his feet. A pinch sprang through it at the weight of the Mandalorian as he pulled, reminding Corin of the bandages hiding beneath his sleeve. The pain was accompanied by a wave of anxiety; there was more than a cut hiding under there and the fact that it they lay so close together made it seem more vulnerable, at least in Corin’s mind. He rubbed at it absently as Din closed up the access port.

“I’ll go check on the engines. That might be where the problem is.” Din eyed Corin’s arm, fingers still gripped around it, “That okay?”

“Oh, uh,” Corin dropped his hands to his sides, a little forcefully, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Din looked at him for a moment, one of those impenetrable gazes that Corin had yet to decipher. Even though his eyes were hidden, sometimes Corin felt laid bare by that black visor and it simultaneously sent a shiver down his spine and a thickness to his throat.

Shoulders softening just the slightest, Din sighed, “Alright. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” As he passed, he laid a hand on Corin’s shoulder, “And maybe check your arm.”

Was that Corin’s imagination or did Din squeeze his shoulder before sliding it off and leaving him in the cockpit? The touch lingered, the memory of fingers just layers away from skin whirling in a haze in Corin’s mind. Trying to ignore it, he sat in the passenger seat. No, it couldn’t be like this.

He flexed the hand of his injured arm, pain shooting up to his elbow like a shock. A different memory cut through the haze, the memory of the young couple touching their foreheads together. A life couple newly found, destined to be together as indicated by the matching life marks on their arms. It made the soft and warm feeling that had begun to grow in Corin’s stomach turn to nausea. That was why it couldn’t be like this, why the ache for Din’s looks and touches only hurt more the longer he thought about it. _Surely_ , Corin thought, running a hand over his arm, _Surely this is just in my head_.

“Good news.”

Corin jumped at Din’s entrance, pulling away his hand sharply. Din didn’t notice, striding over to the control panel, “The engine just overheated. Needs to cool down and run a full reboot cycle.” With the click of a few buttons, the lights in the cockpit dimmed, signifying the offline engine, “Shouldn’t take more than a day or two.”

~~

Corin swallowed back another wave of nausea as he stumbled around the cargo bay, bag in hand, and filling it with his belongings. A jacket, some shirts, an extra pair of boots, his blaster. He paused, staring at the weapon in his hand. Din had given him this blaster.

Black spots speckled his vision and he collapsed against the wall, sucking in breath after breath. He still hadn’t had anything to drink and the cool air burned his throat, but he didn’t care. It was only a matter of time before Din returned from wherever he had gone and that would be it for Corin. He had to be ready.

With a gulp, Corin straightened. He regarded the blaster in his hand one more time before laying it on the bench lining the wall. He shouldn’t take what didn’t belong to him.

~~

**Two Days Ago**

Shivering, Corin unwrapped the bandages, wincing as they pulled on the edges of the cut. He blinked, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, staring down at his arm. The cut was angry and red, the edges raised, and it was beginning to ooze clear liquid that didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

With an unsteady hand, Corin tugged a bacta wipe from the med kit balanced on the edge of the sink and covered the cut, ignoring the sting shooting through it. A bit more bacta and some new bandages and it would feel as good as new. That’s what Corin tried to tell himself anyways as he cleaned the cut. And even if it was infected, surely it wouldn’t be that bad. They were almost at the rendezvous and Din didn’t need to be bothered with a little cut. Corin could manage his own injuries just fine.

Pulling the bandages tight, Corin leaned over the sink and turned on the tap to splash his face. The cool water sent a chill down his spine but when he looked up again, he felt a bit better. His reflection didn’t seem to agree with that, but with a quick swipe through his hair, Corin packed up the med kit and stepped out of the ‘fresher.

Having the ship rumbling beneath his feet again was comforting. It had been nearly an entire day of drifting silently through space, and the quiet had been unnerving. Corin couldn’t even work out like he usually did to funnel his stress, as his arm ached and twinged with every movement. Sit ups had been alright, but there was only so many one could do before your core was burning and failing to contract properly anymore.

Nothing had been more satisfying than running the start cycle and hearing the familiar vibrations of the engine rattling through the ship. Din had spent most of his time in the cockpit, likely as bored as Corin was, and he could practically hear the smile in the Mandalorian’s voice as he spoke:

“Everything looks good to go. Inputting the coordinates now.”

It struck Corin how easy it was now for him to read Din. When they had first met, Din was as readable as a statue to him, quiet and unpredictable. Corin had chalked it up to dislike at first, a coldness one reserved for people you didn’t care to get to know. But moments of empathy had trickled through, enough that Corin suspected it was more of a veneer, as hard as the beskar armour he wore. And after Corin’s daring wrist kiss on Kerrco, it had seemed to wear down. At least, enough that Din seemed to enjoy Corin’s presence most of the time. He didn’t want to presume that Din actually liked him but being tolerable was more than enough for the life he had with Din and the child.

They were about due to arrive now and Corin began climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. About halfway up, though, his vision swirled and he had to take a pause. Clinging to the ladder, Corin took a moment to catch his breath, another drop of sweat tickling his temple. _Get it together, get it together,_ Corin thought viciously as he ignored the pain in his arm and pulled himself up the rest of the way. On his feet again, Corin swayed for only a moment before gathering himself and entering the cockpit.

“How’s it looking?” Corin hated how strained his voice sounded and he cleared his throat, “Still on schedule?”

“Looks like it.” Din tapped a few things into the control panel and then spun around, angling his helmet up, “Engines have been holding out so- Corin?”

Corin blinked. When had Din stood up? He held his hands out and took a shaky step back. His vision was tilting again and a flash of heat burned through him. Din had his hands up, standing back warily, “Corin, you don’t look too good.”

“I’m… fine, I just need,” Corin heaved in a breath and looked over his shoulder at the passenger seat, “Need to sit down…” The thought of sitting was there, but as he moved, the whole cockpit spun. He saw Din’s hands in his peripheral, the flashing lights of the upper console, felt his head lying on the metal floor. When had that happened?

“Corin? Corin!”

Corin tried to open his mouth to tell Din he was okay, but the thought never made it out as everything went black.

~~

The hatch of the Crest opened with a hiss and Corin looked up. His head had been buried in his hands, trying to chase away the faintness that kept crawling back up at every spare moment but now he straightened. His bag, full and packed, sat by his feet. He didn’t know if he was ready for this or not. The sight of Din walking up the ramp and then closing the hatch behind him was so familiar that it sent a pang of longing through Corin’s stomach. He knew this could never last.

At first, too caught up in routine, Din didn’t notice Corin sitting on the far side of the ship. He dumped the bag of supplies he had brought in with him and walked over to the weapons locker to put away his rifle. Corin watched carefully, unsure if he should say anything or not. A selfish part of him wanted to remain quiet, to have these last peaceful moments with Din before…. before. And reluctantly, he did, folding his hands nervously in his lap until Din turned, freezing.

“Corin?” He looked to the bundle of blankets on the floor and then back to the ex-trooper, “What are you doing up?”

Corin tried to respond, but the words stuck in his throat. Din hurried forward, crouching down and pulling off a glove, “Did your fever break? The antibiotics seemed to be working but-”

“I’m sorry.” The words rung heavy between the two men and Din lowered his outstretched hand. For a moment, he was silent.

Looking away, Corin repeated the words woodenly, “I’m sorry.”

It was then that Din seemed to notice the packed back and stared at it before looking back to Corin, “Why are you sorry?”

The response caught Corin by surprise and he jerked his gaze to Din, gripping at his arm, “I lied to you.”

Din sighed and laid his bare hand on Corin’s knee, “It’s okay, it was just a minor infection, if you learn to _tell me_ , next time…” He trailed off at Corin’s confused expression. Why was Din talking about the infection?

Corin shook his head, “Not that. _This_.” He squeezed his arm and grimaced, “My life mark.”

~~

**One Day Ago**

Corin had been out for nearly twelve hours and Din was trying not to panic. A closer look at the man revealed an obvious infection and Din cursed himself for not noticing sooner. Corin was so quick to hide these things and unfortunately, kriffing good at it until it was beyond the point of hiding anymore.

Din had carried Corin down to the cargo bay and set him up with some blankets on the floor. The cot would have been more comfortable, but Din needed access to him while he treated his wound. First, he had gotten the med kit and pulled out the antibiotic syringe, untouched. What was Corin thinking? A shot of this even a day ago would have lessened his symptoms significantly.

After administering that he started on the bandages, in need of a change. The wound looked terrible and Din set to cleaning it. He wiped out as much of the oozing liquid as he could and swabbed on a heavy amount of bacta paste. As he worked, Corin shifted in his unconsciousness, making a barely discernible noise here and there. He was sweating profusely and Din didn’t need to touch his forehead to know he was burning up.

“ _Di’kut_ ,” Din muttered to himself, pulling bandages from the med kit, “What am I going to do with you?” It made his heart clench to think that Corin wouldn’t tell him about something like this. After all these months, the fact that Corin still closed himself off so much hurt more than Din wanted to think about. He knew it wasn’t Corin’s fault, that the man still struggled with self care and the confidence to be himself, but some days Din wanted Corin so much it was like a bone deep ache down to his very core.

He ran a hand across Corin’s feverish skin, thinking. It had been weeks since Din had last looked at his own life mark. He tried not to if he could help it, not daring to entertain the thought of whether his matched Corin’s or not. It certainly would explain how strongly and suddenly his feelings for the man had developed, but they gripped him so that Din couldn’t bear the heartache if he discovered they didn’t. He had long ago dismissed the idea of ever finding his life partner. This life he led wasn’t one that encouraged romance. Din wondered how good the chances were that he’d already met his life partner, only to turn them in for a bounty. No, he had decided that it was better not to dwell on such matters.

Now that he was confronted with it, though, Din couldn’t help but let his fingers explore Corin’s arm, searching, searching for that little dark splotch that coloured every person’s wrist.

~~

“Corin,” Din said, hesitant, “You don’t have a life mark.”

The words were gentle but Corin winced anyways, staring down at his bandaged arm. All the feelings of shame and guilt that had been instilled in him for as long as he could remember came flooding back. He could hear his mother’s voice frantically warning him not to push his sleeves up, the angry tones of his father trying to convince his mother to have one tattooed when he was six, the fear in his mind that someone at the Academy would see, would _find out_. As far as Corin’s family was concerned, there was nothing more disgraceful than having an Unmarked child and he might as well have not existed.

It wasn’t an uncommon notion, the general distrust of people who were Unmarked. They were outliers, people who weren’t deemed worthy of a connection to another being in the universe, and Corin had heard stories of Unmarked people being shunned or worse. He had done the best he could for himself and living with Din had made it easy to hide.

Until now.

“I… I should go.” Corin stood, but Din was quicker, leaping to his feet.

“What are you talking about?” Din tried to reach out to grab Corin, but he stepped back, fumbling for the bag at his feet.

“I’m sorry I lied about it, I know you never explicitly asked me but I should have been up front with you. I’ll be on my way and it’ll be like I was never here. Please say,” Corin gripped the bag, fighting back the tears pricking at his eyes, “Say goodbye to the kid for me.”

The kid. The grief at knowing he would never see the little green bean again tore at Corin’s heart. But it was for the best. Best for Din and the kid to not continue to burden them.

About to turn towards the hatch, Corin was stopped by the swirl of a cloak and the rough grip of Din’s hands on his shoulders.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Din’s voice was harsh but lacked an undertone of anger that Corin was used to when people spoke to him like that. The strangeness of it was jolting and Corin froze, unsure of how to react.

“Wh-what?”

The tight grip relaxed a bit, but Din continued to hold on. His next words had Corin heart leaping into his throat, “Please don’t leave, Corin.” Desperation crackled at the edge of Din’s voice. Corin opened his mouth but Din shook his head, “No.” Fixing his gaze on Corin, the Mandalorian pulled back his shoulders, seeming to gather himself, “Corin, you can’t leave. I need you.”

And with that, Din was moving closer, slipping his arms down and around Corin’s waist and pressing the tip of his beskar helm to Corin’s forehead. Corin inhaled at the touch, hands flying up to latch onto Din’s elbows. There was an intimacy to the action that had Corin’s skin prickling. He could feel Din’s body move as he breathed and the touch to his waist was firm and grounding. He thought of the life couple in the alleyway, holding each other like nothing else in the universe mattered.

With Corin still lost for words, Din continued, filling the silence. “I don’t care about any kriffing life mark, Corin,” he said quietly, “I never thought I would be able to feel like this for anyone, ever. But when you came along I-” Din pulled back, “I will care about you for the rest of my days.”

Corin stared. It couldn’t be true. Corin was convinced that he was doomed to a loveless life, and recently, a life of unrequited love. To have Din saying these things to him, though, telling him he cared. It was more than Corin could have ever dreamed. Maybe it wasn’t to last, but Corin would take what he could get.

Slowly, he raised his hands until they cupped the sides of Din’s helmet, and he pulled them back into another forehead touch. Din’s breath hitched and he pulled Corin in closer.

“I’ll stay,” Corin whispered, “I promise I’ll stay.”

It was at that moment that Din had never been more glad he hadn’t found a matching life mark. Because Corin was more than he could ever ask for. Corin was real, here with him, and Din would die a happy man if this was what he had the rest of his life.

Life marks be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumbr at [mxartbotboy](https://mxartbotboy.tumblr.com) and say hi!


End file.
